


staring at the sun.

by HeyItsErikaHere



Category: the maze runner
Genre: Bisexual/Homosexual Thomas and Newt, M/M, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, newtmas - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 12:58:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20291848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyItsErikaHere/pseuds/HeyItsErikaHere
Summary: Thomas develops a telepathic connection with Newt instead of Teresa. *Newtmas*





	staring at the sun.

Newt decided that he had more than just a little trouble falling asleep, so he sat up, wide awake in his hammock across from the greenie’s, and started to think.

The greenie’s arrival…No. The greenie himself just interested Newt in general. He was an intriguing character, Newt had to admit. He just seemed to have a kind of...confidence around him. And Newt felt a lot more relaxed when he was next to…what was his name, Thomas? The greenie just had this indescribable vibe that made newt feel…warmth, he supposed, on the very inside of his heart. Thomas was calm and collected and made him feel more at home that he ever had in the glade; which was strange to say, since he’s only been here for a couple of days.

_Maybe we were mates before this bloody maze_, Newt speculated. _Just really close friends._

But somehow his brain felt…insulted…at this thought, and the fact that he couldn’t name why sent chills down his spine. Confusion swirled around in his mind in an eternal whirlwind of paranoid thoughts, keeping him awake.

In the midst of his thinking, he could feel stirring in his hammock, which was linked front to back with Thomas’s. The trees swayed and leaves floated off as Thomas tossed and turned.

Perhaps the greenie was awake as well. Perhaps he felt the same way. Newt couldn’t resist the compelling urge to ask.

He stood up barefoot, his feet coming in touch with dewy grass and wet soil. He could feel the blades of grass tickling his soles as he walked quietly to where Thomas was sleeping. Newt rocked Thomas softly, back and forth, as to wake him up.

“Greenie,” Newt whispered. “You awake, shank?”

For a minute absolute bloody silence filled the glade but for the soft chirping of the crickets in the grass.

But then the greenie turned over and gave Newt a drowsy smile that made his heart skip a beat.

“Yeah,” Thomas mumbled. “I couldn’t fall asleep. I was just... thinking about...something. I just...have too many questions, and I’m not getting any answers and I don’t know what to feel right now.”

Newt knew how he felt. Heck, he was one of the first buggin’ gladers to arrive in the glade. He’d been confused before. Maybe even more than Thomas was when he first arrived in the glade, face planting nose first into the sun-baked dirt.

“I’ve been through all that too, y’know,” Newt replied in hushed tones. “We’ve all been here. You just gotta…get used to this, I guess. It’s not always bloody peachy here, but we make do.”

Thomas nodded his silent approval.

The wind ruffled the leaves, whooshing by, temporarily filling up the void of tranquil soundlessness.

Thomas’s unfaltering stare was penetrating. His soft brown eyes bore through Newt’s like arrows.

Heat was starting to creep up Newt’s cheeks for no apparent reason, but he was suddenly, very, very glad that Thomas couldn’t see too clearly in the dark. Seconds that seemed like centuries passed before the greenbean spoke once again.

“Yeah,” Thomas knotted his eyebrows. “Yeah, I guess so. I mean, I shouldn’t be the one to complain, you know, since you guys were here way longer and way before I was and it’s not like you wouldn’t already understand what I was feeling and…I’m blabbering again.” An apologetic semi-smile crept up his lips.

“Sorry,” Thomas whispered. “Sorry. I’ve been jacked in the head a lot of times recently. ”

Newt sat down next to Thomas on his hammock, quietly thinking and enjoying this moment of silence.

“It’s okay,” Newt assured Thomas softly. “Stop blaming yourself for it. It’s not your bloody fault that you landed in this hellhole of a place. But its home for you now, you understand, shank? It’s home now.”

Thomas gave away the slightest hint of a frown, as if he sensed some other meaning behind Newt’s words.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Newt chuckled. “C’mon, greenie,” Newt stood up in awkward, jerky motions. “Let’s talk somewhere more discreet. Don’t wanna wake up the other shanks, do we?”

“No,” Thomas said. “We don’t.”

A groan erupted from one of the sleeping bags on the ground.

“Well.”

Minho sat up in his makeshift cot, wearing an expression placed somewhere between annoyance and amusement.

“You had one job,” Minho growled, but he couldn’t control the mirth spilling through his irises. “One. Job!”

Newt smirked, shaking his head.

“Go back to sleep, Min, you drunk lug, ” Newt kicked Minho in the shin playfully. Minho didn’t budge in the very least.

Minho eyed the both of Newt and Thomas. His pupils darted back and forth suspiciously, then he lay down again, and yawned.

“Alright,” Minho sighed as Newt and Thomas started to turn and leave. “Oh, and by the way, Newt?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful,” Minho grinned. “Use protection.”

Thomas pretended not to overhear the conversation while, basically his entire body flushed a deep shade of red.

Newt kicked Minho again, this time too hard to be playful. Minho grunted.

“Dirty-minded people will always be dirty-minded,”Newt sighed.” Go back to sleep, ya bloody piece of klunk.”

“Ow. But fine, fair enough.”

Minho soon floated off into dreamless sleep and started to snore lightly, the sound a comfortable lull. Newt, particularly, was more than just gratified that Minho finally fell asleep.

Newt beckoned towards Thomas with an open palm.

“Let’s go, greenie.”

“My name is Thomas,” Thomas said sternly. “You do know I have a name, right?”

Newt stopped in his tracks, amusement spreading across his expression.

“Fine, Thomas. Whatever you say.”

Thomas frowned.

“Can you just…use a better name? The name Thomas…it makes me feel kinda uncomfortable. Just anything but greenie. Or greenbean. Or shank. Or shuck-face. Or piece of klunk. Whatever all of those mean.”

“That’s a lot of don’ts.”

Thomas shrugged sheepishly.

“Don’t worry, greenie,” Newt laughed. They were now approaching the deadheads and Newt doubted anyone could hear them. Hence, the nerve to laugh. “We just wanted you to fit in, ya know? Greenies have a hard time adapting. Nothing wrong with that, I’ll say. Now move that skinny butt of yours and walk.”

Newt could practically feel Thomas’ eye roll, even though hit was still dark out.

“Fine,” Thomas sighed. “Fine, Newty.” His voice was dripping in sarcasm.

Newt literally choked. He grunted and heard Thomas chortle ever-so-softly.

“Excuse me,” Newt coughed. “What in bloody hell was that?”

“Oh, nothing,” Thomas halfheartedly replied. “Just something I thought up for you. And since I’m gonna be stuck here for the rest of my whole stinking life, I figured that I might as well make myself happy here. Calling you Newty was immensely satisfying. Ya wouldn’t imagine.”

Thomas’s grin cut through the darkness of the glade like a sword. Even though Newt was irritated—that he was—he couldn’t help but mimic the expression.

“You are one nasty bugger, ya know that?” New grumbled. “You are.”

“I know, Newtsy.”

“Wherever you got that name,” Newt advised with mock warning in his tone, “I suggest you drop it.”

“Stop calling me greenie then.”

“For the love of god, Tommy. You’ve been jacked in the head.”

“There you go.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

The two boys laughed in harmony.

“I like you, Tommy. I really do. I can tell you’re not a bloody sissy.”

“I’ve been told.”

Newt let loose another hearty laugh. They arrived at the deadheads.

* * *

“Have you ever wondered why I got this bloody shuck limp?” Newt asked stupidly, trying to break the silence. Thomas was smiling silently, staring intently at a tree when he posed the question, and Newt regretted it as soon as the inquiry left his lips.

“Hmm..?”

“Nothing.”

_Shut up you stupid shank stop it stop don’t tell him_, Newt thought to himself. _Shuck shuck shuck shuck shuck shuck. Every lovin’ day in the glade you’ve tried to keep this secret as well as you could and now you’re just spilling it all out to some shuck newbie. Keep your hole shut!_

“Um. Newt?” Thomas’s skin seemed deadly white even in the dark.“Did you just say something? Anything at all?”

“No, I didn’t,” Newt replied drily. _And I shouldn’t. And I won’t._

_Um, Can you, uh, hear me?_

The voice seemed muffled at first.

_Newt? H-E-L-L-O?_

“Yes, Thomas?” Newt feigned an expression of annoyance, gritting his teeth and slightly growling as he spoke.

“Am I insane? Because you need to tell me if I’ve gone crazy, Newt,” Thomas asked in trembling horror.

Newt looked at Thomas as if he’d grown a third limb.

“Just answer the question,” Thomas pleaded. “Please, Newt.”

“No, you’re not shucking crazy. Not as far as I know,” Newt replied with caution.

“Then have you?”

“Tommy, what’s with all this crazy talk?”

_I legit just heard you talk in my head, Newt. Or did Alby just hit it too hard this afternoon?_

Newt stared Thomas dead in the eye, the meaning of Thomas’s words just dawning on him.

_Holy shuck. Holy. Shuck._

_Yeah._

_Are we both bloody insane or what?_

_For all we know this might be a mutual hallucination._

“Thomas, this isn’t funny,” Newt grumbled aloud. The words in his head were soon coming easier with focused bursts. This new ability that they developed felt strangely familiar, though coming with a slight side effect of distraction. He couldn’t take his mind off the voice in his head.

“I know.”

_Isn’t this just great?_

_You must be bloody Sherlock Holmes._

_Who even is that anyway?_

A pang of sadness somehow shoved its way though to the edge of Newt’s fatigued mind.

_I don’t really know._

_What was your, uh, secret?_

_Nothing._

Thomas made an audible grunt expressing his disapproval.

_Tell me._

_No._

_Nobody would know. What’s the harm?_

Silence.

_Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?_

_No, _Newt barked out a humorless laugh.

_I swear to god I will call you Newty all day and not just inside your head._

_You can call me a bloody pussy willow or worse, for all I care._

“Ouch,”Thomas mumbled. “What’s the big deal in telling me?”

“There isn’t no ‘big deal’. Just drop it. Ya just don’t wanna know.”

“Thought we were friends.”

“We still are,” Newt nodded slightly, averting the gaze of Thomas’s puppy-dog eyes. “Now quit yappin’ and follow me. It’s time to get back. The boys’ll be expecting us.”

And indeed, it was time to return. The sun was rising from behind the walls of the glade, and the sunshine penetrated even the deepest parts of the forest covered in thick vegetation. The glade was showered in a colorful display of reds and yellows. A magnificent spectrum of vibrant hues spilled over each nook and cranny of the waking glade.

_Wow._

_The glade ain’t so bad now, huh?_

_No, _Thomas thought, admiring the breathtaking view. _No it ain’t._

**Author's Note:**

> I can and possibly will be very slow when it comes to writing. Don't kill me, please.


End file.
